


Someone Else's Dream

by Icarus (Slickarus)



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background relationships include Martha/Anna and Hanschen/Ernst, Basically it's ambigious/positive, But it's mostly about Melchior/Otto, I also don't know why I wrote this, Inpsired by You Give Me Something, It doesn't not have a happy ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 21:06:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11677062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slickarus/pseuds/Icarus
Summary: Please give me something, and someday I might know my heartWhen Melchior crashed into a stranger, he didn't expect it to throw his whole world off its axis. When Otto crashed into a stranger, his day kept going as usual.





	1. you only stay with me in the morning; you only hold me when i sleep

**Author's Note:**

> This work is dedicated to all 9 works in the Melchior/Otto tag written by a total of three (3) authors. How did this become an angsty ship? How would I know?  
> The story (and title and chapter titles) is inspired by James Morrison's You Give Me Something, which is probably less emotionally ambiguous than I interpret it as.  
> Also, sex is a major plotline in the story, but there are no sex scenes, which is why it isn't rated mature.

It started out with an accident, like most good things. Melchior was running late - actually running - and didn’t have the time to pay attention to his surroundings until he was suddenly sprawled out on the sidewalk with the buildings looking down at him. And a stranger. The same one, presumably, that he’d just collided with.

The sunshine haloed around the guy’s shoulders and he almost looked like an angel to Melchior (if he believed in that kind of thing), but the beauty of the moment was broken with the sharp scowl on the guy’s face.

“You might want to watch where you’re going,” he said, reaching down to help Melchior up. Melchior, who was usually very eloquent, could only manage a sort of stuttered thanks before the guy walked away.

Melchior couldn’t really focus in class because he was too busy wondering about _the guy_ , and he only snapped out of it when Hanschen shook his shoulder with more force than necessary.

“Class is over, come on, we’re getting sandwiches.” He followed Hanschen out to meet with the rest of their friends for lunch.

Another element to good things is luck, and it seemed like luck was on Melchior’s side because sitting with his usual group was the guy from this morning. He was mid-laugh and looked even more beautiful than before. His eyes met Melchior’s and Melchior’s stomach sank at the look of recognition on his face.

“Nice to, uh, run into you again.” The other guy rolled his eyes. _Fuck._

“Do you know Melchior?” Anna asked him. He shook his head.

“He’s the guy I was telling you about earlier. The one who fell over.”

“Oh!” Anna burst out laughing, and some of the other girls did too. Melchior felt himself blushing.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said quietly. “What’s your name?”

“Otto.”

“Otto,” Melchior repeated. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, I think I prefer it when you’re not sprinting at me.” Melchior forced a laugh, but inside his stomach was twisting over, worrying that he’d made a fool of himself before Otto had the chance to know him.

“How do I get a guy interested?” Melchior asked one night, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars over Moritz’s bed. Moritz blushed.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Melchior sighed. “He barely talks to me.” Moritz slumped his back against the wall.

“Then why are you interested in him?”

“Fuck, I dunno. I feel this, like, _connection_. Something I haven’t felt about a person before.”

“But you’re all about substance over emotions.”

“Exactly. I need to get into his life to see if I’ve founded my feelings on something genuine, or if I’m just being a lovestruck idiot.”

“Definitely the second one,” Moritz said under his breath.

“What?”

“Flowers. You should get him flowers.” Melchior snorted. “What’s wrong with that?”

“What do flowers say? ‘ _Hey, here’s this thing that will soon rot up and die, much like our measly lives. Let’s fuck.’_ ”

“They’re pretty.”

“Lots of things are pretty, Moritz. Snakes, one could argue, are pretty. Doesn’t mean they’re good gifts.”

“I’d like it if a guy brought me flowers.” Melchior rolled onto his side to look at his friend.

“You’re interested in someone?” Moritz looked down at the bed.

“No.”

Anna didn’t technically invite Melchior to her house party, but she invited Thea who said she was bringing Hanschen, and Anna said that was okay so that meant basically anyone else might show up.

“I’m only taking you because I feel sorry for you,” Hanschen said as he buzzed for Anna and Martha’s apartment. “And that’s saying something, because you’re pretty pitiful.”

Anna greeted them at the door and was textbook polite when she welcomed them both in. She led them to the living room area where most of their friends were on the floor, drinking wine and playing strip Sorry. Ernst was down to just his jeans and Hanschen sat down next to him, holding a wine glass that materialized from thin air, leaving Melchior to stand awkwardly alone.

“Hey, Melchior,” someone called to him and he turned to see Otto propped up on his elbow, one sock off (Melchior wished he was worse at Sorry). “Wanna play? Georg had to split, we need someone on red.” Melchior sat down next to Otto and Martha stood up.

“I’ll grab you something to drink,” she said, and walked away. Melchior looked down at the board to notice all of the red pieces in the start position, while Otto had three blues home already.

“Wow, Georg sucks,” he muttered to himself, but Otto heard and giggled.

“I think that might be why he left. He’s got this weird mole on his thigh that he doesn’t like to show people.” Otto covered his mouth. “Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“How would you know about Georg’s thigh mole?” Otto shrugged.

“We went to the same high school, and one time we hooked up at a party. He kept making me swear I’d never tell anyone about it the next morning, but do you want to know a secret?” Otto leaned in so that he was only inches from Melchior’s face. _“I didn’t even see it.”_

Melchior’s brain was spinning at a thousand miles an hour. _Otto likes guys Otto likes guys Otto likes guys Otto likes-_

“Here you go,” Martha handed him a glass and sat down behind the yellow pieces.

By the end of the game, Melchior was declared the ultimate loser and had to pull a card to determine how much more he had to take off. Luckily, he only drew a 3. Unluckily, he had already lost both of his socks, and he wasn’t wearing a belt, so he had to take off his jacket, shirt, and pants. It was a little weird, especially considering the fact that none of them were very drunk at all, but he was never one to feel ashamed. Besides, he’d been hitting the gym regularly, and he was proud to say that it showed. He was also proud to say that Otto (who was now down to not one but two bare feet, thank you very much) seemed to be making more eye contact with his chest than with his face. Good sign.

“How long until I can put my clothes back on?” Martha rolled her eyes.

“Only, like, five minutes. You’ll survive.” She took a sip of her wine. “I’m just not sure I will.” She made a fake gagging sound at got up to go sit next to Anna, whose game had also finished.

Thea, their fourth player, politely excused herself to go to the bathroom “so I can wash my eyes out with bleach,” although her blush said otherwise.

“Can I get you another?” Melchior gestured to Otto’s glass when they were alone. Otto shook his head.

“I’m not really much of a wine guy, to be honest.”

“Oh. Do you want something else?”

“I’m actually planning to head out. This,” he gestured to the board, “was fun and all, but not exactly how I was hoping to spend this Friday night.” Melchior raised an eyebrow. Otto looked at him, and Melchior felt like he was being evaluated. Sized up. “Hold on.”

Otto stood up and went over to Anna and Martha. He said something to them, laughed, and then hugged them both. Then he returned to where Melchior was seated and began to put his socks back on.

“Where are you going?”

“Back home, to sleep, or so I told them. You, however, are going out dancing.”

“Did you tell them that, too?”

“I’m telling you that now. What do you say?” Melchior started pulling his pants back on.

“I’m not dressed to go dancing.”

“You look fine to me.”

Melchior woke up in a bed that wasn’t his own. His brain was clouded with hazy memories from the night before coated in blue-purple lights and pulsing music. He’d lost Otto for a while, but then, as if by fate (Melchior was starting to believe in fate), Otto pressed up next to him with a smooth ‘hey stranger’ and wrapped his arms around Melchior’s sweaty neck. He remembered fumbling back (this must be Otto’s room) and hardly separating at the mouth, although both were too tired for anything more. Now Melchior was curled into Otto’s side with their legs hooked together.

They lay like that for a while, Melchior content to feel the rise and fall of Otto’s chest as he snored lightly, until Otto woke with a start, nearly knocking Melchior off his bed.

“Oh, sorry,” Otto said when he realized what happened. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“Were you expecting someone else?”

“No, I just thought you might have left.” He looked over at his alarm clock, which read 10:14. “Jesus, it’s late.”

“It’s Saturday,” Melchior replied as he curled back up next to Otto.

“Excuse me.” Otto got up and walked out his room’s door, leaving Melchior alone in bed. He heard the sound of running water and sighed. While Otto showered, he checked his phone, but nobody had texted him, not even Moritz to ask where he was. How could a night that tilted Melchior’s world off its axis leave a morning that was so utterly mundane?

“You’re still here,” Otto’s voice sounded surprised. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and his wet hair hung loosely on his forehead.

“Are you...disappointed?” Maybe he should leave.

“No, no. It’s just, after everything I’ve heard about you, I didn’t expect you to be the type of guy to stick around the next day.” _Everything I’ve heard about you?_

“What have you heard?”

“Sorry. It’s nothing. Can I give you a ride somewhere?” Melchior pouted.

“So you do want to get rid of me.”

“No, I-” Otto groaned. “Last night was fun, Melchior. I’d like to do that kind of thing again sometime, really. Here, hand me your phone.” Melchior obliged, and Otto typed his number in, then texted himself. “But it’s getting late. I have things to do. I’m sure you do too.” Melchior didn’t really, but he let Otto go to the bathroom to get dressed (much to his disappointment) and brush his teeth, and then they got in Otto’s car to drive Melchior back to campus. Otto parked in front of the dorm and Melchior hesitated for a moment. “Is this the right building?”

“Yeah.” He started to open the door. “Don’t I get a kiss goodbye?” Otto laughed like Melchior was joking.

“Maybe next time, cowboy.”

Since Moritz was (unsurprisingly) asleep when Melchior came in, he decided to call someone else for advice.

_“What do you want, Gabor?”_

“What does it mean when a guy calls you ‘cowboy’?” Hanschen paused.

_“I guess that depends. Were you dressed as a cowboy when he saw you?”_

“No, I was just in normal clothes.”

_“Then I have no idea. Remind me again why you’re asking me?”_

“Moritz is asleep.” Hanschen snorted.

 _“You sad, sad man._ Moritz _is your first choice?”_

“Are you going to help me figure this out or not?”

_“Fine. Please relay to me the circumstances under which you were called ‘cowboy’.”_

“I was getting out of a guy’s car this morning after we hooked up, and I’m trying to decide if he meant ‘cowboy’ in, like, a sexy way, or if it was, like, a friendship ‘cowboy’.”

_“When was the last time a friend called you ‘cowboy’?”_

“Point taken.”

 _“Melchior, as much as I love talking about your ‘drama’,”_ Melchior could feel Hanschen making air quotes. _“I have to meet Thea for brunch in ten minutes. Terribly sorry.”_

“Wait-” but he heard the silence on the other end.

Melchior could hardly wait for the next time he saw Otto. When Tuesday rolled around, he was delighted to find Otto sitting with his friends at lunch, and _oh look_ there was an open seat next to him.

“Hey,” Melchior greeted as he slid into it. Otto nodded his head, but didn’t break from his conversation. That would not do. Melchior rested a hand on his own thigh, and then slowly moved it to touch Otto’s. He didn’t respond, so Melchior kept moving his hand under the table to Otto’s inner thigh. Otto grabbed his hand discreetly and moved it away, still not looking at Melchior.

“What the hell, man?” Otto hissed when there was a break in the conversation.

“I missed you,” Melchior admitted.

“Sure, but that doesn’t explain the grope. We’re in public, dude. Hold your horses.” _Is this another cowboy metaphor?_

“Does that mean there’ll be a better time later?”

“Maybe.”

As luck would have it, Melchior received a text that night from Otto.

 **Otto:** what are u doing tonight

 **Melchior:** Nothing ;)

 **Otto:** my roommate is out tonight

 **Melchior:** omw

Melchior remembered how to get to Otto’s apartment, as if by magic, and soon found himself walking up the stairs to Otto’s front door.

Otto, it seemed, was not one for pleasantries. Within minutes, no, seconds, they were already in his bedroom.

“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” Melchior admitted as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. Otto laughed.

“Are you always this eager?” But he was grinning all the same.

Afterwards, Melchior was feeling rather bold (bolder? This whole thing was pretty bold).

“What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?”

“I usually grab a salad or something. Why?”

“Do you want to get lunch together?” Otto looked a little confused.

“If you want.”

“Great! I’ll text you.” Melchior couldn’t resist planting a kiss on Otto’s forehead before heading out to drive back to the dorm.

Moritz didn’t say anything when Melchior got back, barely even looked up from his laptop. Melchior sprawled onto the bed with him anyway. They stayed in silence for a moment before Melchior grew impatient.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how my evening was?”

“How was your evening?” Melchior grinned.

“It was great. Everything’s great.” His excessive optimism must have seemed strange to Moritz, who finally broke eye contact with his computer to look down at him.

“What’s gotten into you?” _A dick,_ Melchior wanted to say, but he refrained.

“I think I’m in love.”

“Is it the same guy as before, or did someone else catch your attention?” Moritz’s words had an edge of bitterness that Melchior might have commented on if he wasn’t currently on cloud nine.

“Same guy. We’re getting _lunch_ tomorrow.”

“Wow. Impressive.” Moritz paused. “Wait a sec. Tomorrow is Wednesday.”

“So?”

“Well, uh, _we_ usually get lunch on Wednesday.”

“Shit, man, I forgot.”

“I guess it’s not a big deal,” Moritz said quietly.

 **Melchior:** Do you have class this morning?

 **Otto:** yeah why

 **Otto:** o right

 **Otto:** you wanted to do lunch

 **Melchior:** What building are you in? I’ll meet you.

 **Otto:** patterson hall class ends at 12

 **Melchior:** Great ;)

Melchior waited on the steps outside of Patterson and had to admit that he was feeling nervous. He contemplated having a smoke, but worried that Otto wasn’t into guys that smoked. He checked his watch again, and right on cue, the double doors opened and Otto walked out.

Followed by Anna.

“Hey Melchior!” He waved politely and all but melted under Otto’s smile. “What are you doing here?”

“He wanted to come for lunch today,” Otto explained.

“Why?” Melchior looked to Otto for an answer, because he obviously couldn’t say _because I’m in love with Otto and I thought this was a date but you’re here so clearly it’s not._ Instead he shrugged.

“Why not?”

“I thought you usually had lunch with Moritz?” _How would she know that?_

“Oh, Melchior, you don’t have to blow Moritz off to hang out. We can-”

“No, it’s fine. He’s, uh, doing other things. With other people. Definitely.” _Eloquent._

Melchior realized that the next time he wanted to ask Otto out, he was going to have to be a little more explicit.

Over the next few weeks, they almost settled into a routine. During the day, they would hang out among their other friends, which was less intimate than Melchior preferred, but what could he do? Once or twice a week (which turned into three or four times a week), Otto would let Melchior know that he was free, and then they’d fuck and then Melchior would go home and try not to think about how much he’d rather be with Otto. Melchior’s favorites were Friday nights, where they’d go to a party or a club or something and then wake up together. He lived for Friday nights.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Melchior chuckled one Tuesday night as he hung up his coat in Otto’s apartment. Otto looked confused.

“Does that mean you don’t want to have sex?”

“No, I mean that I don’t want this to be the only time I see you.”

“We had lunch yesterday. You walked me to class. What else do you want?” Melchior sighed.

“Forget about it. I don’t know what I mean”

It was Thursday when Melchior asked Otto if he could spend the night.

“I don’t know, man, my roommate’s going to be here later, and I don’t want it to be weird.”

“Are you in the closet or something? I thought you said your roommate was gay.” Otto shook his head.

“I just don’t like having sex when he’s here. The walls are kind of thin…”

“We don’t have to have sex.” Otto raised an eyebrow.

“You just want to sleep over?”

“Yeah.” _That’s what couples do._ He shrugged.

“I guess that’s fine, then. Was there something you wanted to do?”

They ended up watching _The Terminator_ on Otto’s laptop, which was sitting on the bed in front of them. Melchior couldn’t help but notice how cute Otto looked focusing on the screen, but he didn’t really have room to cuddle, so he just sat cross-legged. After the movie, Otto left Melchior to get ready for bed, and Melchior wondered if he’d done anything wrong. Otto was being so _quiet_.

After they turned out the lights, Melchior wrapped an arm around Otto, who fell asleep almost immediately. He was always so amazed at that.

Melchior woke up to the smell of coffee. He was slightly disappointed to find that he was alone in Otto’s bed, but he pulled on his clothes and headed to the kitchen area.

“Morning, dude,” Otto greeted from behind the counter, where he was pulling down mismatched mugs for the coffee.

“Hey babe,” Melchior couldn’t help himself; the nickname just slipped out. Then he noticed Ernst sitting at the counter. _So that’s Otto’s roommate._ “Morning, Ernst.”

“You never told me you were dating Melchior,” Ernst accused. “Roommate law number four states-”

“I know the roommate laws,” Otto rolled his eyes. “And for your information, the contents of Melchior and my,” Otto coughed, _“proceedings_ fall almost entirely under ‘sexual content’, which, as stated in the roommate sub-bylaw section IV, do not require sharing.” Melchior was more than a little confused, but so was Ernst.

“Wait, so-”

“Melchior and I fuck. Frequently. And that’s about it. So, roommate legally, I was under no obligation to tell you.” Otto slid Ernst the coffee pot so he could pour some into his travel mug. “Unless, of course, you _want_ to hear all the explicit details of our-”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Ernst twisted the lid onto his mug and scowled as he stood up. _“Stupid roommate sub-bylaw section IV.”_

“We can hold an apartment caucus if you really want to,” Otto hollered after Ernst as he huffed out the door.

“Do you want a ride to campus?” Melchior asked after they heard the door shut. “I mean, I’ve got my car and I have to go back anyway.” Otto shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, bro. I’ll see you later.”

The next Thursday evening, Melchior was spending way too much time psyching himself out in the mirror. After a few minutes, Moritz finally said something.

“Hey, do you want to go for dinner with me and Ernst? He says there’s this ramen place.”

“Sorry, man, not tonight.”

“I don’t know why I even bother anymore,” Moritz muttered.

“Huh?”

“What happened to you, Melchior? We used to hang out all the time, and now, whenever I ask, you’re with that _guy.”_

“That’s not true - we had lunch yesterday.”

“Yeah, for five minutes, then you had to rush off to work on a project that you hadn’t worked on the night _before_ because you were with him. I’ve never even seen you two together!” Melchior frowned.  
“Hopefully that will change,” he said as he folded his collar down for the eightieth time. “I’m going to ask him out to dinner. Can you believe we’ve never been on a real date?”

“No, I can’t, because you talk about him _all the fucking time.”_ Moritz grabbed his jacket and headed towards the door, refusing to look at Melchior. “I’ll be back later, but I doubt you even give a shit.”


	2. i was meant to tread the water, but now i've gotten in too deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this where I admit that it was originally going to be just one long single chapter from Melchior's point of view, but then I got super stuck and decided to switch it up?

Otto Lammermeier was proud to say that he enjoyed the simple things in life. Hot buttered toast, for example. Sex with beautiful people, for another.

And there were plenty of beautiful people.

Like Melchior Gabor. Sure, he generally loved debating with anyone about anything, but when Otto could get him to use his mouth for something else... _ well. _ It really was something. When Otto met him for the first time (not counting their collision), he was wary based on the reputation he’d heard from his friends. He’d known Anna since forever, and the way she talked about Melchior was one of the reasons Otto hesitated to hang out with their friend group for so long. Anna (and Martha and Wendla and Ernst and Hanschen and Georg) let him know that Melchior was not to be trusted, Melchior was a ‘pretentious dickhead’, Melchior once punched a teacher for saying he was wrong, et cetera et cetera. They all cared about him (and agreed that he’d definitely mellowed out since freshman year), but almost every story they had about him was making fun of him.

So naturally, when Otto discovered that the mysterious boy who’d crashed into him was none other than the infamous Melchior Gabor, he was hardly surprised and was prepared to be polite but ultimately stay away from him.

But when Melchior showed up at Anna’s party, Otto  _ was _ surprised when Melchior was funny, and charming, and  _ really fucking hot _ . Especially in his underwear. So Otto, a true hedonist, took a leap and invited him dancing.

And if he just kept inviting him over after that, well, what’s so bad about that? Melchior was willing (really willing, actually. Otto once saw him take off his pants in one swift jumping motion - both legs at a time), and Otto was enjoying himself. They could hang out with their friends without it being awkward, and Otto got his rocks off every other night.

Of course, Melchior Gabor wasn’t the only beautiful person in the world. And Melchior hadn’t made any motions to keep things exclusive, so Otto didn’t have any qualms about scoping out a hot piece of ass when he figured Melchior would be busy.

Like, Ernst had this friend Robert. And Robert was gorgeous - from the neck down, anyway. It wasn’t that he was  _ ugly _ , but his face was always kind of scowling. But he was single and Otto was single, so Otto got to experience that gorgeous body a few times before Robert and Ernst had a big falling-out. It wasn’t anywhere in the roommate laws, but in Otto’s personal bro book, he knew that hooking up with someone your bro had beef with was usually a big no-no. So instead he texted Melchior to hang out on Friday nights.

And then there was Thea. Otto usually had a hard-and-fast rule about hooking up with friends: don’t do it sober. Melchior was an exception because  _ technically _ he and Otto hadn’t been friends before they started hooking up, and they rarely hung out alone, so Otto was letting it slide. And, well, if he could break that rule for one person, he could certainly break it again when he ran into Thea on a Saturday night. He was lingering after a party in her apartment, because he didn’t quite feel like going home, where Ernst and Hanschen were undeniably canoodling. He helped Thea clean up, and in the dim kitchen light she looked so fucking beautiful that he couldn’t help noticing. It was Thea who actually initiated it, and well, Otto literally had nowhere he’d rather be.

He’d never asked over Melchior on a Saturday night, because one major thing he’d heard from his friend was that Melchior was the biggest atheist in the world, and Otto didn’t need him to make fun of him for going to church on Sundays. So Otto decided to keep his personal life and his sex life separate by not even bringing up religion with Melchior.

Thea didn’t go to church, but she also didn’t mind that Otto did. So on Saturdays, they’d both go out together (she was a fantastic dancer), and they’d spend the night together since Thea liked to get up early to work out. So Otto was generally pretty happy with his weekly schedule. Melchior during the week, Thea on weekends, and sometimes someone else if he was really feeling it. And hey, it might seem like a lot of sex, but Otto wasn’t complaining.

In hindsight, Otto should have noticed that something with Melchior was... _ different _ than a usual hookup, or even a friends-with-benefits type thing. For example, Melchior really really loved kissing, and not just in the bedroom. He liked to kiss Otto before he left for the night, kiss him if they woke up together in the morning, kiss him on the hand, kiss him on the forehead - really, Melchior seemed happiest when his lips were touching Otto. At the time, Otto just kind of assumed that melchior had some kind of kissing kink (that’s a thing, right?)

Otto also probably should have noticed how different the Melchior he knew was from the Melchior his friends liked to describe. Even when hanging out as a group, Melchior liked to sit next to Otto, chat with Otto, and generally be a nice person. Otto made the mistake of assuming that Melchior was like that with his friends all the time - no one ever mentioned how weird Melchior was really being.

Otto finally did realize that something was up the night that Melchior asked if he could sleep over. Sure, they were friends, but even Otto’s closest friends didn’t have sleepovers with him. He figured that Melchior had some reason for not wanting to be at his own place - maybe he had a falling out with his roommate, or maybe his room was too cold. Anyway, Otto thought it couldn’t do any harm, and Melchior didn’t really do anything weird when they watch the movie, so Otto figured everything was cool.

The next morning, Otto realized something very important.

He was making coffee (Ernst claimed the coffee he made was better than Ernst’s, but Otto knew that wasn’t true) when Melchior walked in. His hair was sticking up sloppily and Otto absentmindedly wondered if he’d have enough time for a quickie before class when Melchior dropped the bomb.

“Hey babe,” Melchior said as he rubbed his eyes.

Kill Bill sirens went off in Otto’s head and he swore he could see red flashing lights.

_ Melchior Gabor thought they were dating. _

_ Melchior Gabor thought Otto was dating him. _

Suddenly, all of the pieces came together and Otto nearly dropped the coffee pot. Because Melchior Gabor thought they were boyfriends.

The problem here was not that Otto would never  _ want _ to date Melchior. Truly, he’d wondered once or twice what it would be like to go out with Melchior. The problem here was that Melchior assumed that they were dating, but Otto had not. Did not. And most importantly, Melchior thought they were dating and had no idea that Otto routinely had sex with other people, which is a thing that people who think they’re dating you would not like to hear.

What was he going to do? That morning, he did his best to deflect off Ernst’s accusations of him having a secret relationship by fortifying the fact that he  _ had not gone on any dates with Melchior and therefore did not know he was apparently dating him _ and hoping that Melchior got the memo. He didn’t, just stared at him with that goofy (which Otto now realized might be lovesick) smile.

Otto had no earthly idea what to do. The first thing he tried to do was pretend that Melchior had never called him ‘babe’ and that it wasn’t painfully obvious that he loved Otto, or at the very least liked him more than just a pretty face. But after an hour or so of that, the guilt was twisting Otto’s stomach so hard that he resolved to figure out a plan. But what does a guy do in this situation? He could start dating Melchior for real, but he immediately worried that they wouldn’t be compatible and that it would be a surefire way to lose Melchior’s rocking bod. What if he told Melchior that he was only down to be friends-with-bens, but then Melchior didn’t want to and left anyway? Was Otto in the wrong here?

After a week of thinking (oh God, he’d hooked up with Melchior  _ twice  _ in that week without saying anything. At least Thea had been busy on Saturday), he finally realized that he should just tell Melchior what was going on. It was the least he could do to let Melchior decide for himself how they should go on.

**Otto:** hey man can you come over its kind of important

**Melchior:** Right now?

**Otto:** at like 8

**Melchior:** Yes, I can be there.


	3. for every piece of me that wants you

On the drive over to Otto’s apartment, Melchior was so nervous that his hands were starting to sweat. _Knees weak, arms spaghetti,_ his brain thought unhelpfully. Earlier that evening, he’d been excited because he figured Otto would ask him over, but after the vaguely ominous text, he wasn’t so sure. Should he still go through with asking Otto to dinner this weekend?

Otto was making toast when Melchior buzzed up and he did his best to play it cool. Melchior came over nearly every Thursday night, why should this be any different? He grabbed butter from the refrigerator when he heard Melchior knock. He almost backed out on his plan when he saw Melchior because _wow._ Maybe it was the button-down, or maybe Melchior had done something different with his hair because he looked fancier than usual and suddenly Otto felt severely underdressed.

“Do you want some toast?” Otto asked, and Melchior’s face shifted to relief.

“You asked me over so that we could have toast?” Melchior smiled for the first time since he read Otto’s text and followed him towards the kitchen.

“No, but I’m having some and maybe you wanted some.” Otto put two more pieces of bread in the toaster and started buttering his own.

“Well, I could never turn down toast. Especially if you’re making it.” Otto didn’t respond, and the only sound in the kitchen was the knife scraping butter across his toast. Maybe he could just stand here and butter forever, and Melchior would never- “So why the urgency? You said there was an important reason for me coming over?” He sat down on one of the stools at the counter. “More important than usual, I gather?”

“Yeah, uh,” how to phrase this? “We need to talk about something.”

“I figured that.”

“I recently became aware that you might be under the impression that we’re dating.” Melchior’s eyes went wide, but he let Otto continue. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I guess, but I just, uh, didn’t know you felt that way. Because we never really talked about it.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Well, since I didn’t know that you thought we were dating, I haven’t been treating this like a relationship. In, like, every aspect. Mostly the romantic one, but you probably already figured that, but also the, uh, monogamous one.”

“You’ve been cheating on me.”

“Like I said, we weren’t dating. I didn’t think we were dating. We never talked about this.”

“Oh, so you thought I hung out with you basically every day for the sex? That that’s all I cared about.”

“Basically! You never said anything about it until you slept over last week.”

“Were you just in it for the sex, then?” Melchior’s whole world felt like it was caving in on him. Sure, he’d known that he and Otto had never _gone out_ , but he never realized that Otto...didn’t feel the same way as he did.

“I don’t know,” Otto admitted. “Like, at the beginning kind of, but I’m not sure. I hadn’t thought about it.”

“In all this time-” the toast chose that moment to pop out of the toaster, and they both stared at it silently for a second before Melchior continued talking. “In all this time, you never thought about dating me?”

“I was happy with what we had. Or what I thought we had. I didn’t realize you were in love with me.”

“Who said I was in love with you?” Melchior said weakly, staring down at the uneaten plate of toast in front of him.

“I figured the best thing to do in my situation was to tell you everything,” Otto said as he began buttering again. _“Clearly_ I made the wrong decision, and should have decided everything in our relationship for you so that you wouldn’t have to do so much thinking.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? You’ve been seeing other people-”

 _“You_ never told me I shouldn’t!”

“You never asked! I feel like that isn’t something I have to spell out.”

“So it’s my fault. Great. I’m trying to take the moral high ground, and you’re blaming me for all of our problems.”

“It’s not like that. I’m just confused,” Melchior said, his tone softer. “I’ve been presented with a lot of new information.”

“Well, you do love learning, so…” Melchior didn’t respond. Otto took a bite of his toast and made a mental note to ask Ernst what kind of bread he was buying - it was so _fucking_ good.

“Okay,” Melchior said after a while. He looked up at Otto. “You know, before you texted me, I was going to ask if I could come over anyway. Do you want to know why?”

Otto refrained himself from saying something like ‘because you wanted to bone’ because he could see that Melchior was building to something.

“I wanted to ask you out to dinner. Just us, somewhere nice, where we could talk and spend time with each other and not think about whether or not we’d have sex after. I was going to bring flowers, but then I decided that was a bad idea. But that’s what I was going to do.” He took a deep breath. “And I still would like to do that. I still want to ask you, Otto Lammermeier, on a date. I don’t know how you feel about me, but I want you to be able to figure that out.”

The moment when Otto paused to think was the moment Melchior realized just how much he'd grown to love Otto in the past few weeks. The way he leaned against the counter, the way he bit his lip in thought, the way that Melchior's life would be so empty if Otto didn't give him a chance. He held his breath when Otto finally answered.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does the date go well? Who knows! I've given you, the reader, the power to decide whether this works out. But that doesn't mean I won't share my opinion if you ask...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving this story a read (I know it's a rarepair). As always, I love and appreciate all forms of feedback, including comments, kudos, requests (you can put them here or on my blog).  
> Visit me on other sites:  
> Tumblr [(theater specific)](http://thereinkiss.tumblr.com/) [(main blog)](http://zartharn.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/slickarus)


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